FROM HER ASHES³ ━━ Bellamy Blake

𝐕: On the Edge of War

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ON THE EDGE
OF WAR

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IT'S TIME FOR Lyra to stop looking at past mistakes and start making future mistakes.

And by that, she means Bellamy and Octavia.

No matter what had happened when Bellamy had left her alone to die there at the edge of the world, Lyra had loved him. She'd crushed her father's fingers in one pale shivering fist, mouth like a slash, sobbing for a boy who left her, cruelly, wretchedly, agonisingly dying and coming back to life in a shattered world. He'd been the one to bring her to the dropship and their love had become unfathomable, the two tied together intrinsically, as if red string spiralled from Lyra's fingers to Bellamy's. Sun and stars. Ice and fire. Match and flame. In synchrony since their first day on the ground, parallels during that first sunset, and they'd always found each other. Bellamy had always saved her. Until a tragic sacrifice for a father who'd bled out had damned Lyra, until their love had made the world bleed, until his heart had become her ruin.

And now, staring out across the wasteland, seeing him greet Nate, she isn't quite sure what she feels for him. For the boy who loved her. For the boy who left her.

Exhibit B of Lyra's collateral fuck ups: getting. . . involved with Octavia.

Two years into life beneath the earth. When the Dark Year turned that dark and dripping dungeon into something straight out of hell. Every breath was thermonuclear. It had devoured Lyra whole, leeches the warmth from her bones, poisoning her, deadly black acid oozing through her veins. Dark and boneless and something raw. She'd wished for death. Congealing like blood. She'd wanted to feel something. Anything. Once she had been a bright flashing supernova. In that bunker, she was rusting. Two years spent in a comatose.

Then came Octavia. Then came life. Lyra clung to the girl, soul like cold shattered glass, both of them too young, too reckless, too much responsibility on their shoulders. And the storm has lulled for a time, there was feeling again when Lyra was in her arms, everything was sullied but it was silent the way the sky is before thunder roars and the universe crumbles into the void. For a time, the dark-cored seeds of ruin that had been planted inside their bones was frozen in time, paralysed. Infinitesimal. For a time, they'd just lived.

But now the bunker is open and Lyra is terrified that everything will change again.

Lyra is almost too afraid to glance at Octavia beside her, the one who is armoured in blood.

What happens to us now? Lyra's heart whimpers, her soul cowering, shrinking down sizes. Forsaken. Twin flames, bruises painting them blue. Already it feels like they're burning out.

Bellamy crosses the wasteland towards them. Dark brows furrowed, oaken eyes slanting between the two women, obsidian curls longer than she remembers, framing the same sculpted jaw, now shadowed with scruff, his mouth like a slash. The nature of his eyes is so startling and Lyra is so unprepared to look into them again that she is stunned into silence.